


Halloween

by mtihae



Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: Angst, F/F, On the Island - Freeform, Religion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 09:28:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29348169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtihae/pseuds/mtihae
Summary: Leah finds God in Fatin's eyes.
Relationships: Fatin Jadmani/Leah Rilke
Comments: 7
Kudos: 62





	Halloween

When Leah was eight she read a book about Aztec religion. She read about stairs, and sun gods, and blood. And then she did the strangest thing an eight year old can do. She understood. Not in the way one might understand math or grammar. She understood in her teeth, and her pores, and the little buttons of her spine.

Now, she wakes to rays of light piercing her dreams. Images of crumpled sheets, of hands gently carding through brown hair, of a man leaking gasoline from his mouth. She breathes. Inhale. Exhale. The images fade. 

That's the nice thing about dreams: they come undone. Reality is always stickier. 

Maybe reality is like napalm, Leah thinks. Maybe it just burns and burns in gelatinous suffering. She smiles at her own little creation myth. A God who invented napalm. Right now, napalm looks like an infinite sunrise casting its light over a private island. God is funny like that. 

Oh look, there’s a little human-shaped blob of napalm over there. It’s doing its makeup. 

Fatin sits hunched, facing away from Leah. Her eyes are fixed to a compact mirror while her feet dig into the sand. The water comes in and out, reaching for her toes. For a moment Leah’s mind is blank as she stares. Fatin doesn’t notice. The sun goes to war with a blue sky. It’s quiet. 

Leah laughs. It’s more of an exhale, really. The moment feels so absurd that she is briefly taken out of reality. An ice bucket over the head. A girl on a deserted island doing her makeup. Sunburns and sharp wings. The dissonance snaps. She can see the atoms colliding, the napalm burning. 

“What are you doing?” It’s a stupid question. Leah can see what she’s doing. 

Fatin’s head snaps back. Like a bird turning towards danger, wondering if it's time to fly away. Then, she grins. “I’m getting ready. It’s carpe diem. Can’t seize the day with eye bags.” 

Reality slides back into place as Leah becomes hyper aware of her eye bags. The napalm stops burning. She walks toward her. “What the fuck are you getting ready for? We’re in the middle of nowhere.” 

“When we get rescued, I’m going to look amazing next to all of you. Can’t get better press than that.” She looks back to her compact and continues lining her eyes in black. Leah sees red. 

“Is this a game to you?” 

“Life’s always a game if you look at it right.” 

“It’s like you’re not even real. You’re a robot who spits out tacky instagram quotes. Isn’t any of this real, can’t you see it…this?” Leah gets louder before stopping herself. She breathes. Inhale. Exhale. 

“See, that’s your problem. You never learned how this all works.” 

“This?”

“You, the universe, men.” Leah laughs. It rasps in her throat like autumn leaves. She wonders if she’ll see another autumn. 

“Tell me, then, how does it work?” Her lips are shaped mockingly, but inside of Leah a seed grows. It’s a small seed, but it wonders if this burning seventeen year old in leopard print might be a god. Maybe it’s Fatin, after all, who hangs the sun in the sky. Why not? Who else? 

“Cause and effect, babygirl.” Fatin's smile deepens. Leah can see starlight in her eyes. “You see, reality is what you make of it. I know where the strings are and I pluck them.”

“And eyeliner is a string?”

“Eyeliner is a string.”

“Jesus, what string did you pull to get here?”

Fatin’s eyes glaze. Her lips tighten. The universe pauses. Then, with a smirk, she unpauses it. 

“You know, you can be anything.” Fatin smiles softly, and Leah wants to vomit. 

“I’d rather be anything else.”

“Like what?”

Leah can’t bring herself to say it. She hates it. Fatin softens. 

“Like what?” 

“I want to be someone he loves.” And there it is. The ugly truth of it all. She doesn’t know if she’ll get to fucking eat tomorrow and she wants him to love her. She wants to melt into the shape of him until she no longer exists. 

“Then pretend.” That’s when Leah realizes God has lost her fucking mind. 

“I'm on an island. We’re on an island.”

Fatin puts down the compact. Slowly, mechanically, like this is a Vegas strip tease. She gets on all fours and crawls to Leah. She’s kneeling. God is kneeling. 

“Pretend I’m him. Say your piece. Get it all out.”

“You've got to be kidding me.” 

“Hey, therapists do this shit all the time. It’s peer-reviewed.” 

Leah’s chest is shaking from silent laughter. Or maybe it’s a sob. Or maybe her cells just decided to vibrate. “I thought you loved me like I loved you.” A breath. “All of me.” A clench. “Am I just a child? Huh? A child who didn’t know better? Did I feel like a child when you were fucking me?” 

Leah’s chin starts quivering. Inside her is a sea trying to get out, and all she can think is don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry in front of her. Stop being a child. Fuck, Leah, stop being a kid. 

And then she feels Fatin’s fingers on her cheek. They’re still soft; she still uses her luxury lotion. Her eyes are dark brown, and Leah sees stars in them. And then she feels Fatin’s lips on her own and the atoms are colliding and the universe is burning and she wonders why God has such a tacky taste in fashion. And then there’s tongue, and Leah remembers she’s being touched. She can’t remember the last time she was touched. 

And then, and then, and then, Fatin gets up. Her makeup was done a long time ago.

**Author's Note:**

> God I am such Leah trash. This is my first fic so if anyone reads it thank you <3!!


End file.
